


coffee

by plebbless



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, also this is actual crack i’m really sorry :(, hbd keith ily my fave boio, hunk is like mentioned like one (1) time but he deserves the mention bc i love him too, tagged it as klance but it’s really just focused on keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 15:52:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16390664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plebbless/pseuds/plebbless
Summary: Your warmth is what draws me in every time.





	coffee

I don’t sleep well.

Maybe the idea of just of closing my eyes and succumbing to an unforeseeable force doesn’t appeal to me. That or I stay up too long watching “1000 degree blade” videos on YouTube, although I have yet to admit the latter to anyone.

But it’s okay. I have a solution that is 9 out of 10 times likely to work.

Caffeine.

I wouldn’t say I love it. But it wakes me up so it can’t be that bad, right? However, I have no skill in the art of ‘caffeine procuring’, so I’ll leave that to the professionals at the cafe down the street.

The name’s funny. Bean Juice & Co. I like it though; it has a nice ring to it. Customers are frequent, but they come and go after grabbing a warm beverage before venturing on with their amazing lives. And then you have the regulars like myself and this old woman called Regina who comes in every single morning just to keep me posted about her 27 cats. She doesn’t even buy anything-she just sits there in a worn-down armchair, eagerly awaiting my arrival like those stereotypical evil people with spinny chairs and a cat on their lap. Not that I’m complaining, it would be the highlight of my day if not for the knife videos.

It’s December. It’s pretty cold. At least to me. Some people who I’m pretty sure are not human still don’t think it’s cold and are sauntering around in the foggy morning wearing a tank top and shorts with sandals. And here I am wrapped up in a huge off-white anorak, a red scarf the colour of my enemies’ blood, my red rimmed glasses that will most definitely fog up when I get to the cafe and my signature black fingerless gloves. I don’t care if my fingers drop off, I’m keeping my bad boy aesthetic. Honestly, wearing a pretty much white coat to a place where brown liquid can be spilled is not exactly an intellectual decision. However, I can’t help that I only have this one coat because I’m too socially awkward to actually go anywhere other than this one street without an entourage of body guards and buy a new coat.

Plus I’m broke. But that doesn’t stop me from getting my daily bean juice.

I push my way through the delicate wooden door that I swear every morning I come that if I open it one more time it’s going to fall off it’s hinges, and step fully inside.

Something isn’t right.

There was no cackle as soon as I set one foot through the doorway. That laugh that I initially found unsettling and made me undeniably uncomfortable which became a signal that I was about to get bombarded with pictures of fluffy lovable creatures wasn’t there. What is this.

“WHERE’S REGINA?!” I come here too often for the manager not to recognise me, so screaming is fine. Or so I thought.

“Sir, are you alright?” A concerned voice came from behind the counter. I don’t recognise this voice. Oh god now I’ve messed up. Time to change my name and start a new life in a different country. I turn around slowly. And my eyes are blessed.

I don’t know who this is. I’ve never seen them before in my entire life. But god I’m so glad I’m alive right now to witness this spectacle. Oh sweet merciful Jesus take the wheel. Satan, get behind me. Buddha, man the .50 cal. My mind is going crazy.

“Sir?”

OH GOD I’VE BEEN STARING WHAT AN IDIOT QUICK LOOK AWAY BEFORE YOU MAKE IT WORSE.

I pipe down a little and sigh gently.

“Sorry, I haven’t really woken up yet.” My gaze shifts up to look at the barista, who is laughing gently.

“Don’t worry about it, I know that feeling.” I can’t speak. Their laugh is intoxicating. I press my lips together tightly to stop myself from saying anything stupid and awkwardly scoot over to the food section, where there is a large array of various bags of crisps.

I just want to clarify that I haven’t had my caffeine shot yet. And what I did was an uncontrolled action that could not be helped.

Fully aware that the cute barista’s eyes are on me, I push that aside and stare at the crisp flavours.

Hmm, what am I in the mood for?

I continue my staredown.

“There’s too many of you.” I whisper softly, staring at all of the crisps whilst skillfully handling an existential crisis at the same time. God am I multi-talented or what?

“Hey sleepy, wink at me and I’ll consider giving you a 2 for 1 deal.” How can you not turn down a deal for more food? I turn to the Cute Barista™. We make eye contact. Awkward eye contact. I blink. He laughs again. “Okay, I’ll take that. What drink do you want?” Grinning to myself, I grab two packets of crisps and slam them gently onto the counter, before staring into the other’s soul.

“Coffee. As black as my soul.”

“Man, that must be one milky coffee.” Looks like I’m not the only one staring into souls.

“You wish. I’ll just have a regular black coffee. Lactose-intolerant.” Letting out a noise of what I would assume is understandment, the barista deftly picked up a medium-sized cup and a black pen.

“And what name is it?”

“Keith.” Silence fell between us as he scribbled my name onto my cup without hesitation. I looked down at my feet awkwardly to look less awkward but it doesn’t really work out. I look back up and I am greeted with the sight of a person’s back. Damn. There’s no back muscles or anything. But it just looks... good? How would you even describe that? Either way...

 _He_ _kinda_ _looks_ _like_ _a_ _noodle_.

“What?” The other turns away from the coffee machine and looks at me. I realise I said that out loud. Man, my ‘ruining lives’ game is on point today.

“Oh god I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” I’m still suggesting I meant it. I’m not backing down from that. And he leans on the counter, head in his hands, laughing. But what he said next was not something to laugh at.

“Well I guess that’s why I love you FUSILLI reasons.”

...

Holy shit.

I sigh. Again. And with absolutely zero emotion in my voice, I speak.

“What a funny ahaha I am big laugh at that.”

“Aww come on, that was TORTELLINI amaz-“

The machine interrupts him with obnoxiously loud beeps, startling the other and causing him to spring into action, hopping around the hunk of metal as it spews out the good bean juice. The warm aroma is soft and inviting.

“Here you go Keith.” I catch the drink as it slides very dangerously close to the edge of the counter. “Wow, I was expecting it to fall.”

“Aren’t you afraid of getting fired for messing around?” Not that I was concerned if he got fired or not. I have absolutely zero attraction to this man at all. Zero. None.

I’m lying.

“Aw dude, no! My buddy Hunk’s the manager! I have at least three strikes before I have to buy him a cookie and a Lance Hug™ to replenish my strikes. Besides,” Lance leans across the counter, our faces much closer than I anticipated. “It’s worth every mishap I do to see you smile.” He winked. I died. Shaking my head suddenly to simultaneously clear my head and wipe my smile off my face, I question my life. Had I been subconsciously smiling? Damn it, now my bad boy ‘you can’t touch me’ look was ruined. I wave it off bluntly.

“So like, do you work part-time or?” Lance slides off the counter and leans against it once again.

“Part-time. I only work on mornings, so don’t worry, you’ll always wake up to the sight of my beautiful face.”

“I’m gonna go blind.” He opened his mouth to say something. No words came out. Looking up at the ceiling, he pressed his lips tightly together as he thought of something to say.

“I don’t know whether you’re saying I’m ugly or if the dazzling light that radiates off my amazing soul will blind you.”

“Definitely not the last one.” I grasped the takeout cup in my hand tighter. “Or the other one either.” It was only a whisper but Lance must have hyper-hearing because he reacted to my words. Maybe over-reacted, you could say.

“Awwww, that’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me!” It wasn’t even a compliment of any sort! Ugh, this guy makes me feel feelings and I hate every single second of it. Suddenly, the bell hanging above the door tinkles a small chime, and in swoops another customer. I take that as my cue to leave. Mumbling a quiet goodbye, Lance beams and joyfully returns the gesture as I take my leave. It leaves him no time to compose himself for the customer, shouting rather a little too loudly for the old man with delicate hearing to handle.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to roast me in the comments below, or give me constructive criticism !
> 
> my birthday gift for my favourite baby <33


End file.
